


Five Times They Accidentally Hold Hands And One Time That Wasn't Much Of An Accident.

by ineffablesaltflower



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is in love, Crowleys plants, Don't Judge, Fluff, ITS SO FLUFFY, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Queen is playing too, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), after armageddon, armageddon't, but not anymore, hand holding in the Bentley, pure fluff, the picnic is happening, we are on our side
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-27 02:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19781365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablesaltflower/pseuds/ineffablesaltflower
Summary: Just a collection of five times they don't mean to hold hands and one time they did.Accidents don't just happen accidentally.but the ineffable happens sometimes accidentally.





	Five Times They Accidentally Hold Hands And One Time That Wasn't Much Of An Accident.

**Author's Note:**

> so I'm new to the good omens fandom, so please be gentle with me.  
> I'm soft.  
> Tell me what you think of this, I wrote this in two days, parts of it at 5.30 am, so I'm sorry.
> 
> english is not my native language, not beta'd, all grammar mistakes and spelling errors you find are yours to keep.
> 
> please leave your thoughts because I already have another idea in mind, but wanna know if this one is any good at all.
> 
> I dedicate this work to my good omens twitter rp writing partner for helping me find the fourth time. And to the good omens discord server for helping me out with the fifth.
> 
> uh, anyways. thats it.
> 
> enjoy the fluff. I know its all so much of a cliché, but I'm here for the cliché fluff.
> 
> love always.

The first time it happened it was a complete accident and startled them both down to the core.

To understand what happened, we must explore the current situation a little further.

Aziraphale was about to grab a book a costumer had left laying around, already vibrating with what he had to say about said costumer. Who left books laying around like that when they had an assigned spot?

At the same time a certain demon was lounging around in the bookshop as always, lazily leaning against the table, wanting to reach for the book – not to read it of course.

But perhaps to look at it or only to annoy Aziraphale a little, perhaps both. Unfortunately – or rather fortunately? – they both reached for the book at the same time, their hands merely brushing against each other, but lingering for a few moments over the book.

Now two different reactions happened in two different time spans. While Aziraphale reacted faster and quickly pulled his hand back like it had been burned – which it didn't of course. In fact a warm feeling settled into his gut and he couldn't quite name it.

So while the angel was able to react, the demons mind went completely blank.

If only for a second and if anybody would ask, Crowley would deny this until his very last breath and considering he didn't need to breathe, that was a very long time.

Of course they had been touching before. Shaking hands, for example as to agree to their Arrangement.

But this time was different, more innocent and with a different meaning.

But soon they straightened their backs, Crowleys mind slowly began working again as Aziraphale cleared his throat and quickly reached for the book once more, holding it close to his chest as he was off into one of the corners to put it back into the shelf.

Now they could have talked about it of course.

And perhaps the conversation would have gone like 'did you feel the same?" And the other maybe would have answered: 'I did.'

But they didn't.

Crowley didn't in the worry of hearing the same words again like years ago.

_You go too fast for me, Crowley._

And the angel didn't say anything, because – who knows.

Perhaps because he was still oblivious or perhaps because he _wanted_ to be still oblivious to his feelings and to the demons.

Around half an hour later everything was back to normal and it wasn't even awkward anymore.

_The first time their hands touched for at least ten seconds._

—

> _Was it love or just something that reminded me of,_  
>  _Something that felt a lot like, but wasn't love?_  
>  _Just friends, friends then until the end,_  
>  _You know I still pretend, just friends._

_—_

The second time was merely instinct.

Demon instinct, to be clear.

Let us take a look at the current situation.

Aziraphale and Crowley just finished their dinner in the Ritz, walking down the street to the Bentley and if you'd ask them, they wouldn't remember their own conversation. It wasn't much important for the story anyway.

Most likely it was about the book Aziraphale recently read and Crowley was willing to listen the angel anyway. Even if he never heard of the book before, let alone the one who wrote it.

So they were down crossing the street, Crowley being the only one to look out for the cars while Aziraphale was following him blindly onto the street.

They did this often enough and all the cars always stopped in time.

But there was always an exception, even to this.

His eyes were resting on the demon next to him and their hands were close – but none of them thought about taking the other hand.

That would cross a boundary neither of them put up audibly – but was still obviously existing.

Now London was a busy town with busy people and equally busy cars.

Crowley saw the car first that came slithering around the corner way too fast.

While Aziraphale was oblivious to the approaching threat of being discorperated again, Crowley was thanking god or satan or whoever was willing out there to listen for his reflexes and his senses.

Because instantly he reached out for Aziraphales hand, pulling him away from the approaching car.

It rushed past them half a second later, right after the demon had pulled him out of the way.

"For hells sake, angel. Open your damn eyes.", the demon said almost like out of breath, while said angel was staring wide eyed at his companion.

"I must thank you, my dear.", he said then, one of those satisfied smiles planting across his face.

That kind of smile he only held when he knew that Crowley always had his back. And when he was about to say how kind and nice the demon actually was.

"Yes, yes. Shut up.", the accused-of-being-gentle-demon replied and only then realizing that they were in fact, still holding hands.

They both let go at almost the same time without another word, Crowley walking a little faster, Aziraphale wringing his hands in front of him, both being able to feel the touch even minutes later when they were sitting next to each other in the Bentley.

But none of them either dared to talk about it, hoping the other part wouldn't notice.

And perhaps the other one really didn't notice, because in the end they were both busy enough to ignore the feelings the longer touch had brought up.

_The second time they held each others hand for approximately at least 60 seconds._

—

The third time happened in the Bentley.

Crowley was driving in an appropriate way, for a change, therefore the angel was more than relaxed this time.

They were heading out for lunch, trying out a new sushi restaurant on the other side of town.

The angel was literally vibrating with excitement, but both had no hurry, just enjoying the silence between them.

Silence except for the _'Crazy Little Thing Called Love'_ the Bentley played for them.

Sometimes Crowley really wanted to throw out the radio out of the window, this was one of those times.

"I'm hungry.", the angel said into the short silence after the song had ended.

"You're not.", the demon answered back. "Occult beings can't be hungry. – Except for power perhaps. Well, I take it back. But not food hungry."

"How many times do I have to tell you dear, angels aren't occult. And I know we can't be hungry in the human sense, but I'm still excited to try out this new little restaurant. I hope their food is just as good."

Oh. Now he was worrying for a moment that the food maybe wasn't as good.

He was looking around in the Bentley to keep his mind occupied, reaching for one of the CDs to look at them again.

And Crowley swore once more, to whoever was listenting, if Aziraphale referred to it again as bebop he might..not know what to do.

Something _evil._ Something _demonic._

( Something like possibly shutting him up with a kiss or another soft thing. ) 

But he was no soft man – he was a demon, so – his mind got interrupted from his all too evil thoughts (which we all know aren't that evil) by Aziraphales voice.

And if we consider that Aziraphale had absolutely no idea about the kind of music he called modern, he might have just called it bebop again.

Luckily he didn't.

Or perhaps it was rather unfortunate for the demon, because instead the angel said even something worse.

"I don't know much about the modern kind of music, but I came to decide I really like to listen to it everytime we're in the Bentley. Like when we listen to it together."

Heavy silence followed the words and somehow it shook something in Crowleys mind, the fact that this was probably the closest of admitting he would get today from the angel, possibly for quite a while.

The demon sped up the Bentley, mostly not to answer, because really, he could only take so much.

Now the speeding up resulted in Aziraphale to make a really unholy noise, not quite a curse but it was pretty close to _fiddlesticks._ Or something like that. Crowley wasn't quite sure, it was so quiet.

And angels don't swear. At least in Aziraphales eyes.

Gabriel would probably have a different opinion there, but this story was not about Gabriels opinions or Gabriel in particular.

So let's just say, angels normally don't swear.

( Except they get discorperated. )

Especially when the car swerved around the corner, the angel reached out for Crowleys elbow, just as another car approached them – a car being the reason again – why their hands accidentally touched.

So while he was reaching out for the demons elbow, Crowley reached out to show the other driver what he – thought of him and his driving skills.

Now this was really not a kind gesture and perhaps Aziraphale could just call it preventing a demon from doing bad, but their hands brushed midair again.

This time their minds went both sort of blank, Aziraphale just having admitted that he liked spending time with Crowley, which was already sort of a big deal for the angel and Crowley – well.

Let's call it luck or perhaps a little demonic miracle to have the Bentley staying on the street. Like he always did.

Aziraphale didn't complain once anymore about the demons driving skills for today.

Neither did the demon say anything about _'I like to listen to music which I don't understand as long as it's with you.'_

Later that night when they shared dinner, two hands accidentally touching again when reaching for the bottle of wine, but it was a fleeting brush of fingers, it didn't really deserve to be counted as hand holding.

( Secretly Crowley counted it anyway but he would never admit it out loud. )

_The third time they held hands for at least 15 seconds._

—

So for the fourth time we must imagine a lazy evening together.

Not many words were shared, but instead they just spent time without much talking.

Which sort of became a habit over the time after the armageddon't.

Aziraphale was reading a book the demon had brought him along (to save it from being thrown away).

So we all know Crowley couldn't care less about books perhaps, or maybe he just always pretended to not care so much.

But in the end he offered it to Aziraphale and the angel was happily beaming.

So they were sharing a bottle of wine, a good one Crowley had also brought along (and he might have stolen this last bottle from a wedding, because in the end a demon needed to do his bad deed for the day at some point).

Crowley was spread over the sofa as usual, his head hanging half off over the edge as he was listenting to the angels soft voice reading a particular interesting part of the book.

Interesting in the eyes of an angel probably but Aziraphale could have just read the shopping list for the week and Crowley would have enjoyed it.

Our demon was easy to satisfy tonight.

Aziraphale finished his glass of wine soon after reading to him.

"Would you be so kind, dear?", he asked and offered the empty glass to Crowley who was having the bottle next to him on the table.

Now this was where it all began this time.

Crowley refilled the glass while Aziraphales mind got occupied with the book again.

This new book was splendid and he couldn't wait to finish reading it!

The part where everything went wrong or everything went right was the part where Crowley was about to hand back the glass to his companion.

"There you go, angel.", he sighed lazily and stretched himself to hand him the glass, so he didn't have to move _that_ much. He was trying to be lazy here.

Now Aziraphale reached for the glass but instead of taking it, his hand wrapped around Crowleys who was still holding it tightly (a little more tighter and the glass would burst at this point).

The angel was completely distracted from the book, just wanting to finish this last paragraph before actually looking up to take the glass.

Now Aziraphale was no fast reader in particular, but neither he was slow. He was just enjoying the words and thinking about them as they were spoken in his head.

But it was long enough for Crowley to choke a little on air he didn't need, because what in hells name was the angel doing?

Life was testing him lately, maybe this was his punishment after all.

But he couldn't exactly pull his hand back either, could he?

So the demon just sat there, pretty uncomfortably on the sofa as his hand slowly warmed from the angels touch.

And the only reason he enjoyed it as much as he did was because he was a snake and snakes liked warmth.

There was absolutely no other reason.

Aziraphale looked up when finishing said paragraph, only for his eyes to meet the..inconvient situation.

"Oh, I'm sorry.", he muttered and his face had a dangerously close color to red as he quickly took the glass, letting go of Crowleys hand.

Sadly enough Crowley almost didn't catch the blush on the angels cheeks, mostly because he was busy to deal with the same problem.

Demons normally didn't blush – and neither did angels, but they had agreed a long time ago that 'normally' didn't quite fit them.

Unfortunately that counted in blushing as well.

So now we could argue that this didn't really count as 'Crowley accidentally holding Aziraphales hand' when in fact it was the angel who did the holding, but it sounded better in the angels mind when thinking about it.

_For the fourth time they were holding hands for approximately 90 seconds._

_Or a minute and a half in other words. But this sounded far too long in the angels mind either, 90 seconds just sounded shorter and easier to explain._

—

> _Was it love? I think it was but I'm far from sure_  
>  _I'd never felt that way before, was it love?_  
>  _Just friends, am I a fool to be asking for_  
>  _A fool to wish that we could be more than friends?_

—

The fifth time happened in Crowleys little flat.

It wasn't like they were here often.

But occasionally even Aziraphale dropped by and the demon let him reluctantly in.

In fact this was only the second time the angel visited him.

And maybe Aziraphale would have noticed that this meant so much more, breaching the barrier between Crowley and the things he kept hidden, open to the angels view.

But maybe Aziraphale didn't want to see it or maybe he was just simply accepting the fact that their boundaries had opened.

He trusted Crowley enough to not be surprised, to just accept the fact whenever the demon was ready.

Of course he valued the fact a lot that he was allowed to come into Crowleys flat.

He knew how much the demon was always hiding his soft side or everything that could end up too close to him and even if other demons had been here, having the angel here was completely different.

Especially because Aziraphale was the worst angel, Crowley just decided.

So soft and dumb and always smiling and just about to touch his damn plants to heal and reassure them –

"Hands off, angel. I didn't teach them the fear for you to destroy everything. They need to grow the way I say the fuck they have to grow."

And Aziraphale was literally staring into his eyes as he carefully touched one of the leaves, the plant just starting to develop a little blossom within seconds.

"Did you just –"

A satisfied grin spread over the angels expression.

"See. Love works so much better.", he replied and his hands went back to clasping together in front of him.

The demon let out an incoherent sound, deciding to _ignore_ what happened, reaching for one of the smaller plants in the corner, its leaves shaking.

" _Sssee_. A brown spot. Right the fuck there and I don't tolerate those in my house. In the garbage disposal with you."

He was strutting towards the said disposal, but the angel stepped into his way, hands on hips.

"You won't."

"Watch me, angel."

"Not over my watch."

"Those aren't even your plants, so let me go."

See, this could have gone forth and back for quite a while and none of them would have gotten anywhere with their arguments since they were both stubborn as hell. Or heaven. Depending on the kind.

So instead of one of them just giving in, Aziraphale tried to reach for the little plant and Crowley was trying to swat his hands away which sort of ended in a really childish fight about the plant.

( They would both deny this for eternity if someone asked. They were a 6000 years old grown up demon and angel. They didn't have childish fights. )

And at some point they were just both holding onto the plant with one hand while Crowley had grabbed Aziraphales other hand to keep it _away_.

That way they sort of ended up closer than before, which was sort of even more weird, to feel each others warmth of the body seeping through the clothes.

Now they could have just let go and went on with the day but as they both held each others hand – it just got really, really weird.

Neither wanted to really let go but also they didn't want to hold on.

Because the longer this took, the more they should have talked about it.

It was in their eyes and maybe they could see it as well, that something had changed, long before.

But only coming now to the angels realization.

And perhaps a mischievous grin spread over a certain angels face as he quickly let go and at the same time pulling at the plants pot when he felt Crowleys grip softening, both arms equally quick wrapping around the plant to keep it safe.

A small hiss escaped the serpents throat as he tried to reach for the plant again.

Too late, Aziraphale was literally destroying all his hard demonic work and healed the little plants leaf, which started to green more than even before.

Now there wasn't even a reason to threaten it anymore.

Awful.

The difference to the other times they accidentally held hands was the little smile that they both kept carrying around for the rest of the day, even after they were alone again.

Therefore no plant had to see the garbage disposal today, even if Crowley only used it for show. Putting the plants with spots and brown leaves into an own room with more sunlight.

Aziraphale could absolutely _never_ ever know about that.

Because he'd never stop telling him how kind he actually was.

And Crowley absolutely hated the fact that his plants were more healthy than ever after the angel had left, some even starting to bloom.

Some which shouldn't even be able to bloom.

( He hated it so much, he stared at the beautiful plants at least for an hour with the softest scowl. )

( He hated the angel even more. )

_For the fifth time they accidentally held hands for approximately two minutes._

—

> _Take a step and come out of the shade_  
>  _I can tell you're no longer afraid_  
>  _I'm helpless without your warming smile_

—

So the plan – not the _ineffable one_ – but one almost as good had formed in the demons mind.

He decided that it was time, that he just had to risk it one last time.

Maybe he still went too fast for the angel, but also maybe the angel finally caught up with him.

Maybe even if he went still too fast, the angel would follow anyway.

There were so many possibilities of the eventual outcome of his plan, that he almost turned around again once he pushed open the door to the bookshop.

To his surprise, a few costumers were actually looking at books, Aziraphale somewhere sorting through a newly arrived staple of books.

Almost like a miracle the bookshop was empty ten minutes later.

Now neither of them would deny nor admit if it was a demonic or angelic miracle, so everybody could think whatever they want to think.

"Angel! Angel.", he breathed out, his hands on the table as he was standing on the other side of it, so he could directly stare at the addressed angel with yellow eyes.

Now there was this thing about Crowleys eyes.

The white disappeared whenever he was stressed and right now he was absolutely stressed.

Because the demon just realized that this could go absolutely horribly wrong.

And Aziraphale wasn't dumb, he knew the demon better than he knew anyone else, better than heaven. And he had always noticed the change of the serpents eyes.

But the sunglasses revealed only so much and it wasn't nearly enough to actually make out his eyes through them.

Right now he could only guess the stressed feeling, but it was almost surrounding him like the air was surrounding them both.

"Are you alright, my dear?", the angel asked and reached out to carefully remove the demons glasses.

"How many times do I have to tell you, that you don't need them around me?", Aziraphale asked softly, the glasses being mindfully placed on the table that was still separating their bodies.

"At least one more time, angel.", Crowley replied and a small smirk spread over the demons face, which was almost too soft to be worth of being called a smirk.

"What are you doing here? You were chasing away my costumers."

And the voice was a little scolding, as if Aziraphale had ever sold a book ever since he had the bookshop.

"You never sell any books.", Crowley spoke out what they were both thinking and this time the smirk was definitely worthy enough to be called a demonic smirk. Or at least as much of demonic smirks as Crowley could produce.

A soft blush crept upon the angels cheeks, as if it had been one of his best hidden secrets.

"You didn't answer my question about what you are doing here.", he changed the topic.

"I need your help.", the demon answered, a small frown upon his face, as if he was actually worrying.

Show. Just for show. Of course. Obviously. As if he was worried about this.

"With what?", the angel said, his voice curious but worrying briefly, wondering if they were in any danger.

If _Crowley_ was in any danger was the more important question.

"Does the kind of help require a flaming sword or does it not?"

"No, not that kind of help." Crowley waved it off with one hand and shook his head.

"Just a simple thing. Can you hold this for me?"

"Can I hold what?"

Now Aziraphale could have waited for Crowley to answer the question, but years of spending time together resulted in sort of a trusting arrangement, so he held out his hand to take whatever Crowley was offering to hold for him.

Not another word was spoken as the serpent put his own hand into the angels'.

Which resulted in two completely different reactions.

The demons reaction was simply. A wide, satisfied smirk spreading over his face, one that even reached his eyes.

While the poor angel was simply confused, staring at their joined hands.

The demons hand in his perfectly manicured one, wondering.

"But that is your hand, my dear.", he replied and Crowley just started to laugh.

He started to laugh so whole heartedly, Aziraphale couldn't help but join, even if he was still confused.

"Exactly, angel. Exactly. That's the point.", he said breathlessly, still snickering and shaking his head.

"Oh."

The angels face went serious again, staring at their hands again in concentration, as if he was working on something hard.

The world wasn't exploding and no army of angels and demons arrived at their homes simply because they were holding hands.

"But of course I will hold your hand.", he agreed then slowly, his words carefully chosen.

And just like that Aziraphale decided to do that one thing he always wanted to do, but had always denied himself.

Holding the demons hand.

They were on their side now, right?

And before the angel could react again, the demons face was suddenly really, really close in front of him.

Now you might be thinking that they were kissing.

But in fact the demon was planning his bad deed for the day again.

"Let me tempt you to a picnic, angel."

His voice was quiet, delicate. Vulnerable.

Soft, yellow eyes begging the angel silently not to push him away again.

"Temptation succeeded.", the angel replied softly, beaming at the thought of having an amazing picnic.

"How fortunate that I brought this basket full of the best food.", Crowley replied and held up the picnic basket which had suddenly appeared.

Aziraphale just noticed that he was still holding his hand, squeezing it softly.

"Shall we leave then? I believe I can close the bookshop for a few hours."

"Oh, no. How will you sell all the books then?", Crowley teased, guiding the angel around the table to pull him along, out to their little picnic.

Perhaps later they were holding hands again, while sitting in the grass in a miraculously empty park, feeding ducks together.

Perhaps, hidden by the shadows of the approaching night a shy kiss was shared.

Neither in hell, nor in heaven any alarm bells rang, there was only the singing nightingale, somewhere in the trees.

_And maybe that was an ineffable miracle on its own._

> _Take a step and come out of the shade_  
>  _I can tell you're no longer afraid_  
>  _I'm helpless without your warming smile_
> 
> _Take a step and come out here in the sun_  
>  _I can tell it's already begun_  
>  _I'm helpless without you, helpless without you_  
>  _Helpless without your warming smile_  
>  _Your warming smile_
> 
> _\- Come Out Of The Shade - The Perishers_

**Author's Note:**

> yes, yes. I stole that one quote from Pirates of the Caribbean.  
> "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Elizabeth?"  
> "At least one more time, Miss Swan."
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the fluff.


End file.
